


elephants

by occhiolist



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Langst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 05:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16469726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occhiolist/pseuds/occhiolist
Summary: lance has loved a universe, a planet, a team, and a boy that refuses to love him back.a boy doesn't need second chances, but a man can learn to offer them.





	elephants

The way they interacted, being back at the Garrison, being back home, made it all so much easier to see, how different things had gotten between them. 

There were more stars out there. Other galaxies in which it wasn't possible to look at the sky without going blind, where defenders of the universe didn't exist, because there was no life to defend. No one to start a war with, no one to die for. No one with which to fall in love.

Though perhaps, Lance thinks, maybe this was the universe which was fit for that last one.

Loving was what Lance McClain did best. All his life, it had been; a big family means a bigger heart, or at least, one that was never full, and that meant young boys who fell for just about anything in the world that could teach him something, anything that would adore him as he did it.

It meant that ever since he could remember, he was learning lessons in the form of shredded excitement, but he'd never lost hope. Until now.

Now, when he's been to space like he'd always dreamed, been more than a pilot- a _paladin_ \- seen green skies and orange oceans and people who spoke with their hands, learned the difference between kindness and sacrifice, and how easy it is to toe the line when you desperately want to be remembered. He'd been made to grow up in a way he'd never asked for, and he hadn't noticed till he'd come back to his beginnings and realized he didn't recognize himself in the mirrors of rooms he'd worked so hard to be in.

Lance hadn't been a fighter. He'd made himself into one, or the war did- nowadays it felt impossible to distinguish which was which, after it all. He was certain there was a part of himself that had been left up there that wasn't meant to return, one that he wouldn't get back no matter how hard he searched. It used to eat away at him, used to make him try extra hard to pretend to be himself again. But now?

He was tired.

And maybe that was normal; every single one of them was. He could see it in the way Hunk moved his hands around a spoon, as if eating in a cafeteria was too mundane; in the way Pidge would hold onto her brother at possibly inopportune times, as if somebody would float away from her at any moment. He could see it in the way Shiro never smiled, Coran made himself scarce, and Allura looked at him for too long, like she was considering something. He had an idea what it might be, and the self that he'd lost up there, the loverboy Lance- he would've been ecstatic, elated, would have ran with just the thought. But Lance cannot find it in himself to be anything other than resigned to it. Maybe this was what he'd earned: a second-class falling, to be a last resort, to be loved by someone who was incredible but was no longer quite enough. Maybe he'd never get enough.

He could see it the most in the way Keith moved ever farther away from him, even while standing right beside him.

Sometimes Lance used to catch himself staring, watching, observing, waiting. Expecting some sort of change, some address, for him to say something. After some time, he was just hoping to meet in the middle. And it is with each sideways lean, every openly blank gaze, that he comes to terms with the fact that it just wasn't in the cards for Lance to get what he wanted. Not in this life. 

So he lived with that.

He made friends with the MFE's, finding it too hard, too often, to be one-on-one with anyone related to Voltron anymore. He knew that eventually, they'd be returning, going back to the neverending battle, and he'd have to pretend to understand them, bond with them; but these days, he found it easier to breathe when they weren't there. They reminded him of the vacuum of space, with no oxygen and millions of angry stars. 

It wasn't their fault, he supposed, but he'd never really felt welcome.

And now, now that they have the chance to be away from each other, to be around people who didn't know them so intimately, he gave them the space they deserved. Sometimes he'd see Pidge sitting with Hunk in the mess hall, or Matt talking with Keith and Shiro, and it made him wonder if it wasn't the intimacy they'd all experienced, but a lack of it that he'd been given with them. But those thoughts become fewer and farther between as he learns there is no matter to whatever it is he believes.

So Lance gets used to no longer waiting, no longer wanting. He doesn't think he knows how to really want something, other than basic necessities. He can't fool himself into false hope, and that understanding on its own makes him wonder if he really even came alive again, if the rest of him isn't trapped in a blast that no one knows of. When he starts to feel it, the scorching heat, the burning, the air leaving his lungs, he almost talks to her, asks her to be there, to understand, because no one else can. But he doesn't, because he doesn't want the closeness that may come from it. He knows how it'll end, and some foolish part of him resists it.

He starts spending time with Ryan Kinkade, feeling, at least for a little while, like he's normal. No pressure. He thinks that maybe he's seen the other man's eyes look to his lips. But as lucky as he could've been, he cannot do it. He doesn't have enough room in his chest, not around the elephant that still sits on it. He thinks that with a little more time, perhaps he'll be lifted of that burden, or at the least, perhaps it'll ease enough that he can learn to breathe.

Because he knows that it'll never go away, truly- maybe once, long ago, it could've been, and beyond that, would've never existed, but Lance knows now, what it is to have someone own his soul and only want to let go, but never do so. He knows what it is to trust someone with his life when they've struck him thousands of times. He knows what it's like to fall in love and forget that it could've been something good. He knows what it is to never really unlearn how to be close to someone, even as they pull you apart.

At this stage in his life, Lance thinks he's finally gotten close to forgetting how to love.

-

He can see it in his mother's eyes that she, too, thinks about the boy that went to space, and the man that returned.

She holds him for a long time in the mornings, like perhaps she can squeeze back into him the zest for life he's lost. And he smiles at her with a sadness he didn't know how to feel before. He doesn't miss the way she watches him as she thinks he isn't looking, as if she doesn't really recognize him anymore. And each time, he is thinking, _you and me both_.

Lance wakes early, because sleep brings nightmares he's better off avoiding. It isn't as if he can become more exhausted, anyways.

There's a knock at the door, and he freezes. It's not a typical occurrence, and he's unsure what to do. He steps towards it as the offending sound becomes more insistent, and he's made aware of the fact that neither Ryan nor his mother would be so rude. He figures it's Veronica and turns the knob, but is met with a bridged scar and hardened eyes instead,

"Shiro." Lance observes tonelessly. 

The older man seems to be waiting for more, but doesn't get it. "Hey, Lance. How're you doing?"

The red paladin blinked. He hadn't been asked that in a long time, and he didn't really know how to formulate a response. He decided not to be bothered. "Why are you here?"

Shiro sighed. "I'm not allowed to check up on you?"

"I don't see a reason why you should."

And Lance knew that he should be more careful with his insinuations, be more cautious with his words, because again- soon enough, they'd be back in space; but they weren't now, and it was hard to be interested in a conversation with a man you'd learned to associate with crudeness. 

It was silent, for a moment, and Lance began to step back into his room to get ready for the day, but the other man placed a hand against the closing door. "Lance."

The man in question hummed without fervour in response. "You've been... distant. We've been worried."

Lance stilled, jacket in hand. He was briefly caught off guard, but shrugged it off quickly. "'We'?"

"The team."

He laughed, albeit a bit hollowly. "We aren't a team till we're back in the lions."

It was a fair statement, one with at least some truth, and it was clear Shiro knew what he meant. "We don't have to be. We're family- isn't that what you said?"

The Cuban whipped around. "That was before lots of things."

Hands raised in surrender. "Like _what_?"

He couldn't even gather up the rage. "I lost myself up there."

A quietness that dripped in the corners of the room. "We've all lost something, Lance." A pause. "It's what made us- you- strong."

Lance chuckled. "Weak feels a whole lot better."

Shiro eyes were something sad. "It always does."

Brown hands fiddled with a suit jacket, meant to be a signature of respect. He didn't want it. "Does it hurt, anymore?"

Confusion.

"That Adam died."

The breath that the other man let out was small, but it was there. He didn't say anything, as Lance had expected. He was thinking, maybe.

Just as the stretch of quiet verged on tense, he said, "I think I almost expected it. I lost him so long ago, had gotten so used to destroying myself over it every moment, that honestly, I didn't feel like I was losing him again. He was already gone. But that doesn't answer your question."

Lance met his eyes, and there was nothing hidden there. In fact, the look was so open that he almost wanted to back away, but Shiro went on. "Yes, it still hurts. It's always going to. Especially here, I see him.." Lance thought he heard an intake of breath. "Everywhere. But we were shown into something powerful, Lance."

"With great power comes great responsibility." Lance deadpanned.

Shiro choked out a hapless laugh. "Yes. And we've much of both. But we were all placed into this together. Maybe none of us will truly understand each other in our entirety. But we weren't given a choice in it all, were we? The best thing we can do for ourselves is let those that get it, even if only a bit, be there for us, and let ourselves be there for them."

"I don't think I can be there for anyone," Lance pondered. "I've got nothing worth giving."

"Sometimes all we all need is each other's presence."

Lance's brow furrowed and he stared at the floor. He couldn't be around them, these constant reminders of what it is to not be wanted.

"Lance," Shiro said, interrupting his thoughts. "Why don't you come with me? We'll go say hi to the team."

Lance snorted listlessly. "Right, because that wouldn't be weird."

"We meet every morning."

And Lance should've been surprised by this- hurt, or something- but he wasn't. He had a feeling, niggling in the back of his mind, that they were at least still trying.

"We've wanted you there, but you never stopped to even speak to us-"

"Because you remind me of _dying!_ " He shouted- finally, finally, the river coursing freely, brokenly, tearing at his scarring wounds and the elephant roaring. "All of you, every time I look at you, all I see is all the things I'll never get to be- you didn't give a shit about me, except for what I could do for the team, so _sorry_ if I don't want to be a part of that team for just a little while when I don't have to be!"

"I'm so sorry."

And he was sobbing. He hadn't cried in months, or weeks, or whatever time was anymore, but he was now, so much unlike the man he'd gotten used to being, crying into his hands until arms were wrapping around him, and he didn't even think to consider that this was the first time he'd ever hugged the former leader, that this was weakness if anything was.

But when he did, he was over caring. The exhaustion settled deep into his bones, and Lance let himself be weak, for himself, for his team, and the boy he couldn't be.

-

"Morning, guys."

"Mornin', Shiro!" Pidge chirped from behind a TV. Hunk was handing her bits and pieces. Keith was sitting in a chair watching. Neither of them looked to see the former and red paladin come in, but Keith did. He was silent, but his gaze was heavy. The way he sat up in his chair minutely set Lance on edge, and the other two noticed it as well, looking over immediately.

The room grew to be a monstrous sort of silent, and Lance's lungs caved beneath the weight of his chest.

"I thought it would be good for Lance to join us this morning. That okay?"

It was almost comically awkward, the quiet. Hunk was the first to recover. "Yeah, of course it is. Welcome back, Lance."

The red paladin looked at him devoutly. The yellow paladin, his best friend. He knew which label took predominance, and the bitterness settled in his stomach. "Back to what, exactly?"

They all startled, at what Lance recognized to be the first time they'd heard him speak in weeks. No one seemed to know what to say.

And then there was Keith.

"Voltron, maybe? Since it seemed like you'd decided to hop off for a while there." His arms were crossed, his eyes angry, and Lance remembered what it was like to look into those same eyes for the first time with the knowledge that he'd fallen in love with them. It wasn't a happy memory, not now.

"That's funny," he replied with no bite, "isn't that supposed to be your thing?"

"Lance," Shiro said quietly. Lance almost wanted to grin, but couldn't quite make it all the way. The reprimanding- that's what he was used to. But Shiro moved in a different direction. "We aren't here to push you away. Voltron needs you, yes, but so do we."

"What's the difference?"

A crash of tools answered, and the three of them turned to see Hunk, expression blazing. "We aren't just _Voltron_ , Lance! We're your _friends_! You don't think we haven't been worried? That we hav-haven't been keeping an eye on you, making sure you were even still here in the morning?" He wiped at his eyes frustratedly. "I've been talking to your mom, you know. She thinks you're dying, with how little you talk, even to her, anymore. And I just-" He stepped closer, imploringly. "I get it, not wanting to be around Allura, or even Keith." A harsh breath came from the mentioned paladin, but Hunk ignored it. They all did, for the moment. "But come on, man. We're supposed to be best friends. Why'd you- why did you just walk away from me?"

And this was it- everything Lance didn't want, all of the messy feelings driving their way between what he could have and what was out of reach. His eyes were watering, and this time, he felt stupid for being so weak. "You don't get it," he whispered, and it could've been earth-shattering, from the vehement way Hunk shook his head in disagreement.

Shiro frowned. "Hunk, I don't think you should-"

"No, he's right," Keith interjected, standing up to round into Lance's line of vision. "You disappeared, acted like we were nothing. So you could what, shack up with the MFE's?"

When Lance would look back on that moment later, he wouldn't remember even lifting his hand, or moving to punch Keith. But he'd remember the sound of his nose breaking, the sickening crack, and the blood spilling onto his lips and Lance's knuckles, bright red and flowing almost as freely as the tears Lance had shed in Shiro's arms.

He was breathing heavily. Pidge shrieked, Hunk was yelling, and Shiro was grabbing paper towels, but Keith was utterly silent. His face was contorted in pain, and yet he almost looked satisfied, as if he'd been hoping for this to happen. 

"Okay, Keith, let's go to the medic, we'll- Lance, maybe you should go to the docking bay. We can come back to this later."

Lance shook out his hand, smarting from the force of the hit, and nonverbally agreed. He made his way out the door, but as he passed, Keith grabbed his arm. Flinching, Lance tried to pull away, but Keith wouldn't let go. They met eyes, and Lance tried to focus on the blood covering his face, and his teeth as he smiled-

He was smiling. 

"Good to have you back," Keith was saying softly. Then he and Shiro were out the door.

Lance stood there for a moment dazedly, and looked back to see Hunk and Pidge staring at him with something he couldn't name, and vexation slithered up his spine like the tail of a cobra. "You guys are crazy," he spat.

Pidge answered him. "He missed you," she said lowly. "We all did."

The elephant was stomping madly, and Lance didn't know how to respond. So he didn't.

But the look on their faces followed him out the room and well into the evening.

-

At dinner, he was sitting next to Kinkade. James Griffin sat across from his companion. Learning to not snap at his former bully had been a process in the first few days, but Lance's bleariness didn't translate into rising to baits well, and Griffin realized this pretty quickly. They weren't even acquaintances, but they spent their time near one another with little conflict, so long as Kinkade was there to referee. 

Now, Ryan was talking about the latest dispatch of jets that were supposed to be coming in this week, his baritone soothing as Lance zoned out, staring at his plate. He didn't realize his name was being called until the other man had prodded him gently. When Lance looked up, Ryan gestured to his right silently. Lance followed his gaze, only to be met with Keith standing there acquiescently. "Hey, Lance."

"Your nose isn't bleeding," the red paladin answered conversationally, turning back to his plate. The other boy barked out a laugh. "Yeah," he agreed. "Thanks for that."

Lance scowled. "Are you expecting an apology?"

Hesitance. "No, I'm not. I deserved it anyways. I practically wanted you to punch me." Lance balked, but he kept going. "Look, can we- can we talk? Privately?"

This was three too many deviances from Lance's shallow routine. "No."

"Lance. Seriously. You can't keep running from me."

His fork clattered onto the table. "Running from you? Are you kidding? You had so many opportunities-"

"Don't you think maybe I needed time, too? This doesn't come easy for me-"

"You had _two years_ , Keith! You were just a coward and didn't want to face me!"

The look on Keith's face was momentarily gut-wrenching, but it cleared rapidly. "Fine. You're right. But I'm not doing this here."

" _Fine_ ," Lance said venomously. He tossed his tray into the trash with an over the shoulder 'see you later' to Kinkade, not looking back to see his puzzled expression or whether or not Keith was following. If this was happening, it was happening how Lance wanted it to be.

They were walking for what felt like forever, considering the weight of the feelings breaching the feet between them. Keith didn't say anything, just followed blindly. They reached the Lions, and Lance walked to Red, staring her down. Keith came tentatively up behind him. "Lance?" He said finally.

"You became a leader. I just got angry," Lance said suddenly. Keith swallowed. "You were always so much better than me. I wanted to hate you.. so badly."

"You did."

A scoff. "We both know I didn't, I never did."

"Does that mean you don't now?"

The smile that grew on Lance's face was cynical, but lonely. "Have you ever felt like there's something crushing you? Like an elephant on your lungs? You only get.. these little moments, where you can breathe. And it's more like gasping for air, but no matter how hard you try, you can't kill it. Can't make it go away." He turned to face Keith. "It just.. kills you slowly."

The black paladin was watching him with a sad misunderstanding. "I don't.. what do you mean?"

"I mean you fucking killed me, Keith. A million times over." Shock was written all over pale features. "Wasn't just you though, don't worry. Plenty of things." Lance looked past him to the sun, just setting, the orange and pink filling the sky like a painting. "You're just the worst of it, I think."

Keith was watching him, pained. "Why me? Because- because I left? I came back, Lance-"

"Seriously? Even now, you aren't gonna admit it to me?" Lance leveled his gaze with purple irises bitterly. "Tell me you never felt anything. Tell me you didn't run away from me, because you didn't _want_ to feel anything. Maybe I'll even believe you."

He waited. Keith was shaking. Lance thought he was going to hit him, his hands balled into fists, but he didn't. 

"I.. did. Run away, I mean." He released his fingertips. "I never knew if you hated me, or- well. I'd just never felt anything for somebody. Not like.. this." He gestured tinily between them.

Lance sneered. "You say it as if there's still anything."

Keith growled. "There _is!_ If you'd just listened to me-"

"I wasn't gonna spend forever waiting on you, Keith!"

"-I know that!" he shouted. Lance stepped back slightly. "I know that." The black-haired man's shoulder's slumped, and he sighed as if expelling the sins of this world and the next. "I never meant to hurt you, Lance. I just didn't know who I was supposed to be. What I was supposed to be. Getting my mom back, and everything with Shiro, and Sendak, I-"

"Didn't have time for me?" Lance quipped mockingly.

Keith closed his eyes. "I'm sorry for that, too. I pushed you away when I shouldn't have. I was.. scared. Terrified, really. We were at war, for fuck's sake, I didn't- I thought it was selfish of me to want anything. To want more than what I'd been given back."

"To want love."

Something balled itself in the back of Lance's throat. "Is that what you're calling it?"

"What do you call it?" Keith challenged, and it was almost familiar- an invitation, an olive branch, to take a step forward. But Lance didn't feel anything. He deflated. 

"I don't want to want you," he shook his head. "Not anymore."

He expected that to be it. Defeat. But Keith was shrugging- shrugging! "You had a lot of time to not want to be around me. And clearly there's.. a lot, that needs to be talked about. With the team especially." His gaze was firm. "But I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of telling myself all the reasons I don't deserve you. I fucked us up, Lance, and I know that, I'm owning it. But there's always going to be a battle to fight, a war to win, somebody out there in the universe that needs defending. I'm tired of saving everyone but you and me." He took a deep breath. "So please, just- let me try. Give me another chance to make things right. I might not deserve it, but I'm still asking. I don't care if it takes two weeks or another two years-"

"You can start with coffee."

Lance watched the other man blink the passion out of his eyes. "Um. Sorry?"

The red paladin shoved his hands in his pockets, striding past him. "Tomorrow morning. Before the.. meeting."

He walked backwards long enough to watch realization dawn on Keith's face, and a tiny smile grow beneath his broken nose. It was something beautiful, his bright grin against the sky. Lance turned away before it became too much, the pressure in his chest, but his breath was stuttering for a new reason entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this when i was feelin down in the dumps sorry if its emo but lance deserves the best and im finna give it to him
> 
>  
> 
> eventually, i mean
> 
> sorry if the paladin stuff is messed up  
> thx for readin yo lets hope i update quickly


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